Songs of My Soul
by Emmitha
Summary: Series of one shots based off of songs. 9th-11th Doctors. Rose. Fluff, angst, and general stuff. Mostly I'm making up for not being able to watch the 50th until Wednesday.
1. Not Over You

**So I know I should be putting up a new chapter of Life Cycle, but there are several reasons why I am doing this instead. The long term is that I have two jobs and school full time and am very busy, but I have half a chapter that will be up within the week. The short term reason why this is coming first is my roommate is watching the 50th about five feet away from me, knowing full well I can't watch it til Wednesday and I needed to distract myself.**

**This is something I've been wanting to do for a while; it'll be a series of one shots based off of songs. So, feel free to submit a song, if you'd like. It will be varying Doctors, but they'll all be RosexDoctor. Some fluff, some angst. It'll be fun! I JUST WANT TO WATCH THE 50TH**

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Rule one is the Doctor lies. Subsection B, paragraph 2 of Rule 1 is that the Doctor is best at lying to himself.

"Fine!"

"Perfect!"

"I'm the King of Alright!"

And for the most part, the Doctor is so good at lying to himself, that he can actually believe that he really is just fine. But then comes the day when he has to give in, has to rest, and then he is confronted with the truth.

It's not until he goes to sleep that this truth attacks him, ravaging his hearts and mind with the knowledge that he is _not_ fine, not fine at all.

It's been almost two weeks since he last slept, and the Doctor is exhausted. Still, he stands in threshold of his room, staring at his bed with no small amount of trepidation. It is necessary, and he knows it. He will give in, and he knows it. And, for the few hours he is asleep, he will enjoy it.

And he knows it.

And that's just the problem, isn't it? He shouldn't enjoy it! Enjoying it meant he kept it around, kept _her_ around, when he would be better off just letting her go. Because if he just let her go, then maybe he really would be alright.

Except, the only time when he really _was_ alright was when he was with her. And that can never happen again.

With a sigh, the Doctor let himself collapse onto his bed, his consciousness already slipping away, both dreading and anticipating the moment when she would appear in his minds' eye, and take him into her arms again.

His Rose.


	2. The Monster

**The last chapter's song was Not Over You by Gavin DeGraw, since I kind of forgot to mention it. This one is on The Monster by Eminem, though I based the story off of the chorus sung by Rihanna. It went a bit longer than I thought it would, and I'm not sure if I like it, cause it feels rushed to me, but it feels good to be writing again, so I'm gonna go with it.**

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"Rose, he's not real. You know that."

She didn't know that, actually. She was pretty sure he was real, her Doctor. He hid under her bed and came out at night to tell her stories. Beautiful stories of far off places and heroes and golden wolves with the power to save or destroy.

The one about the Bad Wolf was always her favorite.

"The Bad Wolf, Doctor," she would beg, night after night. "Please, again!"

And he would chuckle good naturedly and tell it again. They would stay up until the early hours of the morning, the Doctor telling Rose stories—and Rose always begging for more—until Rose finally fell asleep. And no matter how late she'd stayed up, she always woke up perfectly rested the next morning.

Rose tried to tell her mum about the wonderful Doctor under her bed, but her mother didn't believe her. Said it was nice for Rose to have an imaginary friend, but she would have to grow up someday.

Only, Rose never did. At least, she never out grew the Doctor. Seven, twelve, fifteen, nineteen; he was still there. He still visited her, still told her stories. And Rose fell in love with him.

The problem was, if one didn't outgrow their childhood imaginary friends, they usually ended up in places with white walls, bad food, and lots of doctors.

Places like where Rose was now.

She'd been here, Mercy Asylum, for two years now. Her mum tried to keep her out of these places for as long as she could, but Rose made the mistake of telling her boyfriend, Jimmy Stone, about her wonderful Doctor.

Jimmy always had been a bit of a git.

Pills. So many pills. And words like Schizophrenia and Bipolar Disorder. This was Rose's world now. It was killing her, she was sure. She'd stopped speaking months ago; it only got her in trouble. She accepted her pills like a good little patient, and spat them out as soon as the nurses weren't looking.

At night, her Doctor came to her, and told her the secrets of the universe. And that was enough to keep her going.

"I hear voices sometimes, you know…" she told him sleepily one night.

"What?" he asked, stroking her hair absentmindedly.

"In m'head," she continued, nuzzling into his hand. "She likes you, I think…" she yawned.

"Who does?" The Doctor asked, his hand stilling.

"The voice. In m' head. The Bad Wolf, just like from your stories."

Next to her, the Doctor went very still. "Rose, listen to me," he said urgently, pulling her from her doze. She turned to look at him curiously, her brow furrowed at his tone. "It's time," he told her solemnly.

"Time for what?" Rose asked, tired and confused. What was going on? Her Doctor was never this cryptic.

"I'm coming to get you. I might take a while, but I need you to be brave, and wait for me, okay?" He took her by the shoulders and stared at her intently, as if willing her to understand.

"But…what do you mean you're coming to get me? You're right here…" Rose mumbled, reaching out a hand to touch him.

The Doctor sighed, and suddenly the weight of his hands on her shoulders was gone, though his hands hadn't moved at all. The hand Rose had stretched out towards him passed inconsequently through him, as if he were made of air.

Rose gasped, jerking her hand back, shrinking in on herself. "But…but…"

"I was never here, Rose. Not physically, anyway," he added quickly. "I've been coming to you telepathically, visiting you in your dreams, all these years. It was the only way, don't you see?"

Rose shook her head, closing her eyes against the tears already spilling down her cheeks. No no no no no! He couldn't be telling her this! He couldn't be…He wasn't….What if her mum had been right? And Jimmy and the Doctors and everyone…her Doctor, he wasn't…he wasn't real….

"Rose. Rose! Rose, listen to me!" The weight of the Doctor's hands appeared on her shoulders again, but Rose refused to open her eyes, scared to find herself alone. "I'm real Rose, I swear to you I _am_ real, and I _am_ coming for you." His hands squeezed her shoulders for a moment, and Rose was pulled against a chest. A warm, comforting chest with an irregular heartbeat that had lulled her to sleep for years. "Thing is…I'm not gonna be able to visit you like this anymore. But I'll see you in person, in physical person, soon, I promise!" He whispered, pressing his lips to her hair. "Just…just…don't stop believing in me, okay?" The quiet desperation in his voice was enough to make Rose's eyes fly open, but he was already gone, and she was alone.

For the first week, Rose struggled with her doubts about the Doctor. As promised, he didn't show up at nights anymore. Rose spat out her pills and stared at her ceiling at night, until the sun came up, and it was time for more pills.

The second week, Rose convinced herself the Doctor had been telling the truth. He was real and he was coming for her and he would save her from this retched place. She slept very little this week, so sure the Doctor would pop out from under her bed any minute and whisk her away.

The third week, she lost all hope. Everyone was right about her—she was crazy and the Doctor was a delusion. She started swallowing the pills the nurses gave her. They made everything fuzzy and muted and she wasn't sure if she was crying as she fell asleep at night or if she only dreamt that. She wasn't sure if she dreamed at all.

The weeks blurred together in a haze of anti-psychotics until five and a half months had passed. Rose's doctors were encouraged by her "progress," though they were worried that she still didn't talk, or move, really.

"Rose, sweetie," her mum said softly from the chair by Rose's bed. It was visitors day, a day Jackie never missed. Rose stared blankly at the far wall, her thoughts muted and sluggish. "They're moving you to a new facility, sweetie," Jackie continued, reaching out to take Rose's limp hand. "They think it might be…better. For you. Only…" Rose dimly noticed how Jackie's breath hitched before she continued. "Only it's in Scotland. I'm not gonna be able to visit as often, love. But you'll get better there, you'll see!" Even in her drugged state, Rose knew the cheer in her mum's voice was false.

"I've got to go now, love, but I'll write you, I promise. And visit as soon as I can." Jackie kissed Rose on the head, then left the room, still sniffling.

Rose didn't move until the sun began to set, and her nurse brought her the little cup of pills. Wordlessly, almost mindlessly, Rose put the paper cup to her mouth, barely noticing the plastic-feeling pills brush past her tongue and down her throat.

It was about a minute before she noticed that the nurse hadn't left the room. Two minutes before she realized it wasn't her regular nurse. Four minutes before the haze in her mind began to clear. Six minutes before she finally turned to look at the nurse, eyes widening as she realized it was the Doctor.

"But…" She wasn't sure if the word actually left her mouth. She wasn't sure if the man before her was real or not. But she found she didn't much care, since this was the first time she'd seen him in so long.

"Anti-anti-psychotics," he grinned proudly. "You humans. Takes you almost another century to realize how rubbish your medications are."

Rose didn't move, didn't speak, only stared in wide eyed fear and trepidation at the man (monster?) before her.

"Hello, Rose Tyler!" The Doctor said cheerfully. He held his hand out to her. "I told you I was coming for you. And you gave up on me!" He frowned in disappointment.

Rose slowly, carefully, put her hand in his, and stood up on shaky legs. Slowly, slowly, she reached up her free hand to feel his face, his solid face. And then she hit him in his solid face, energy she hadn't felt in months surging through her veins.

"You git!" She yelled, not caring that the rest of the hospital could hear and would probably come running. "You absolute prick!"

"Oi!" The Doctor complained, rubbing his cheek. Now he was the one staring at Rose wide eyed.

"Five and a half months you left me!" She shrieked, her voice hoarse and cracking from months of disuse. "You were the absolute only thing I had in the world and you left me! Not only that, but you left me seconds after dropping the bomb that you'd only been in my mind all these years!" She paused to hit him again, this time going for a solid whack to the abdomen.

"Oof," the Doctor grunted. Served him right.

"Do you know what I've been told all my life? 'He's not real, Rose.' 'It's all in your head, Rose.' 'You're _mad_ Rose!'" She backed away from him, the anger slowly ebbing out of her. "_Am_ I mad?" She whispered. "How do I know you're real now?"

"Rose…" the Doctor murmured, reaching for her; she shied away.

The door to her room burst open, and an orderly, belatedly, rushed in. "I heard shouting…who the hell are you?" She demanded, glaring at the Doctor.

"Good enough for me!" Rose announced, appearing at the Doctor's side in a second.

He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. "What, that's it?" She grinned. "Maybe you are a bit mad…" he muttered.

"I said, who the hell are you!" The orderly snapped, her hand drifting towards a radio on her hip.

"I'm the Doctor," he grinned, waving.

"He's the Doctor," Rose agreed.

"No he's not, I know all the…wait, you mean like…_The_ Doctor?"

"Yep," He grinned popping the 'P.' "Now, if you don't mind, Ms. Tyler and I have places to be."

"You can't just leave!" The orderly snapped, reaching for her radio again.

The Doctor whipped a small, silver device, with a blue tip from his pocket, and pointed it at the orderly's radio, making sparks fly from it. "Wanna bet?" He grinned. He took Rose's hand, and smiled at her. "Run!" They shoved past the frightened orderly, and ran cackling down the halls of Rose's prison.

"Where are we going?" She panted; she hadn't exactly been getting a lot of physical exertion these past few years.

"You'll see!"

A siren went off somewhere in the building, and Rose began to feel uneasy. What if this was still all a delusion…

"Here we are!" The Doctor announced, throwing open a closet door and all but shoving Rose inside.

"What're you—" she started, but stopped short when she saw the blue box sitting in the small closet. "That's…that's the…" She whispered.

"TARDIS," the Doctor supplied, stepping past Rose in the confined space to push the doors open.

"She doesn't like that," Rose whispered, edging closer to the box. At her angle, she couldn't see inside, but, oh, she could imagine.

"What?" The Doctor frowned.

"The doors. You're supposed to pull, not push. Says so on the sign. She doesn't like that." Rose finally stepped past the Doctor, and into the TARDIS. She thought she heard the Doctor mutter something like "Two of them…" but his words were lost on her as she took in the console room of the TARDIS; the room she'd had described to her in stories, that she'd seen in her dreams, and that she was now seeing with her own eyes.

"I wanted to bring you here sooner, you know," The Doctor said quietly from behind her. Rose didn't dare say anything, just ran her fingers over the coral struts. "Had to wait, though. Wait for the Wolf to be ready. Wait for _you_ to be ready."

"Ready for what?" Rose breathed.

"Do you remember the story I told you? Of the Bad Wolf?" Rose could feel hands ghosting on her shoulders, on her ribs.

"She loved a monster so much, she sacrificed herself for him, and became the most powerful being the universe."

"But?" The Doctor prompted, after Rose fell silent.

"But the power came with a cost." Rose closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the coral. "It was burning her. Killing her. Destroying her mind."

"So her monster took the power from her, to save her," the Doctor continued. His hands rested a healthy distance above Rose's hips, but still low enough to be considered intimate. "He took it, but it was too late. She was still dying. So he did the only thing he could do. He stole all of her memories of the event, and hid them away." Rose frowned. She'd never heard this part of the story.

"He left new memories in place; memories of a childhood, and growing up, memories that were only slightly altered, so that they included him. He rewrote her mother's memories, too. And then he waited." The hands left her sides, and Rose could feel the Doctor move away from her. "He waited while she healed, while the power that had almost killed her, now saved her, remade her, changed her." He sounded sad, so sad… "He couldn't tell her the truth. Telling her too early could jeopardize the whole thing, since even the memory of power is a power. He waited and he visited her in her dreams, telling her stories of their adventures as if they happened to other people."

Rose turned to face the Doctor. He was looking away from her, off into the distance. As he talked, something in Rose's mind wiggled, trying to break free.

"One day, she mentioned hearing voices, the voice of the Bad Wolf, and he knew it was time. The changes were done, and it was safe to come and get her. But he had to make sure, he had to make sure she wouldn't be hurt by remembering him, and everything they'd done." He'd turned to her now, his voice desperate for her to understand. "Everything'd _we'd_ done. Rose." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "You are Bad Wolf. You've always been Bad Wolf."

Rose blinked, and wondered what new brand of pills they'd put her on because they were _fantastic!_ All those dreams she'd had for all these years culminating in this one moment, this one plot twist! Really, bravo to the psychopharmacologists.

The Doctor's face fell. "You don't believe me. You don't remember."

"I'm dreaming." Rose shook her head. "I've always been dreaming."

"Rose—"

"I'm dreaming!" Rose yelled, and turned to run out of the TARDIS, out of the dream and into reality, when a splotch of pink pulled her up short.

In the corner, as if it had been thrown there, was a pink jacket that said "Punk Fishy" on the back. Slowly, Rose walked towards it. "I…" She frowned. "I was wearing this," she started slowly, brows furrowed as she struggled with the memory. "I was wearing this when the Daleks took me. No…when…when we ended up on the game station. _Then_ the Daleks."

"Yes, yes!" The Doctor breathed from behind her.

"And then… and then…" She threw the jacket down abruptly, and marched over to the Doctor, slapping him across the face in a way that would make her mother proud.

"Bloody hell! That is _not_ something that should be genetic!" The Doctor yelped, clutching his face.

"You bloody idiot! I was going to die so you wouldn't have to!" Rose yelled, ignoring him. "But no, couldn't let that be, could ya? No, you had to go and play the hero and suck the vortex out of me! And don't think I don't remember how you did that, either, cause I do and we'll talk about that later, but you are a git and you went and got yourself regenerated all because you were to stubborn to just let me do what I meant to do!" She glared at him for a moment, huffing. "And how the hell do I suddenly have knowledge of regeneration?" She added, too angry for the confusion and slight fear she had over this new knowledge to show in her voice.

"It's what I was telling you, or trying to, anyway," The Doctor explained, letting go of his face as he moved to take her by the shoulders. There was a red hand print on his face, the exact shape of Rose's hand. She knew she'd feel guilty about that later, but at the moment she just felt an odd sort of pride. "The vortex energy you took in…the Bad Wolf…it made some changes to your biological makeup. Even I don't know how much. But you're different now, Rose." He stared at her for a moment, trying to make sure she was understanding. She wasn't. "You're…well, not like me, exactly, but closer to me than before. You have knowledge about time, a longer life span. With enough practice, I wouldn't be surprised if you were able to become at least a low level telepath."

"So…I'm not human anymore?"

"Not completely. You're about 51% human and 49%...something else." The Doctor's face was calm, but Rose could clearly see the worry in his eyes. "Is that alright?"

Rose was silent as she thought about it. It had been what she wanted, before. An eternity with her Doctor. But what about her mum, and Mickey? She'd have to watch them age, and die. The Doctor's curse, she now shared in it. And she wasn't human, besides. She remembered how angry she'd become when she'd learned the TARDIS was rooting around in her mind without her permission, changing how she heard things and said things so that she could understand and speak the native language of where ever they were. Wasn't this so much worse? Having her biological makeup, her very species, changed without her permission? Without so much as a warning? And her memory of the very event that changed her stolen from her for God knows how long? It was a huge invasion of her privacy, a violation her will.

'_But is it?'_ a voice whispered in her mind, the same voice that she'd been hearing for months before, the voice of the Bad Wolf. _'I am you, as you are me. Is not my will yours, and your will mine? We are the same; I just have a little more control than you. Is this not what you wanted, deep down?'_

Rose closed her eyes and covered her ears, as if that could block out the voice.

'_We wanted this. Forever with our Doctor. I gave it to us.'_

"Rose?" The Doctor asked, concerned. He bent a little to peer into her face.

"Will the voice stop?" Rose whispered, not opening her eyes. "Will she go away?"

"She? Bad Wolf?" Rose nodded. "No, I don't think so. She's a part of you. She was actually always there, since she really _is_ you." The Doctor squeezed her shoulders. "Rose?" He asked, almost timidly. It was strange; she'd never heard him so unsure. "Are you alright?"

"No." Rose said flatly, opening her eyes and looking him dead in the eye for the first time in a while. "But I think I will be, in time." She smiled hesitantly, then threw her arms around him. "I missed you," she whispered near his ear.

She felt him press his lips to her hair. "I know. Trust me," he chuckled, "I know."

Eventually, Rose came to terms with all that had happened to her. Eventually, she managed to sit the Doctor down and tell him her feelings; all of them. And eventually, he managed to tell her he had the same feelings. It didn't take her long to drag him off to his bedroom after that.

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**Thanks to everyone who followed and reviewed! I'll get on the request sent to me soonly, promise.**

**Until next time!**


	3. The Lightning Strike

**This one's on The Lightning Strike (What if This Storm Ends) by The Snow Patrol. Thanks to Yani Cardaria for the suggestion! She has a a series of snippets published, y'all should check them out!**

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There was a storm. An ever present, constant storm, swirling in the mind of the Doctor. It was dark and angry, and full of winds and lightning. And it was the only thing that kept him going.

* * *

This human, this Rose Tyler…he didn't know why he'd brought her with him. She was a danger magnet, always in trouble. He'd only known her for a day, and already he'd had to save her four times.

She also had the strange ability to still the storm in his mind, and that scared him beyond belief.

He'd already half made up his mind to just drop her back off at home when he caught sight of her standing in front of the observation window, her burning planet casting a glow on her golden hair, making it almost look like a halo. He paused for a moment, looking at her. Almost dead four times, and yet she still hadn't asked to be taken home.

Maybe she could stay a bit longer.

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They were going to die.

That much was fairly certain, give then ghostly figures that were swopping around the basement, animating corpses. He and Rose had managed to lock themselves behind a gate, but that would only protect them for so long.

He turned to glance at her as she started talking, her eyes glued to the advancing corpses. The strange light of the gelth painted in her in odd, and beautiful ways. Like a star.

As he looked at her, the storm that was his mind was quelled once more, and, given that they were about to die, he decided to enjoy it.

"I'm so glad I met you."

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Rose was asleep, and the Doctor was watching her. Yes he was a dirty old man—he'd made peace with that fact twenty minutes ago. But he'd almost lost her today. Almost lost her to an enemy that should have died with the rest of its race so long ago.

Oh, how the storm had howled at the sight of it.

The storm was quiet now, as it always was in the presence of Rose.

Naïve Rose. Trusting Rose. Beautiful Rose.

She could stop the storm in his mind with one look, one touch, and Rassilon, it frightened him.

Because what if she made it go away permanently? What if he lost this storm, the only thing keeping him from breaking down completely over the loss of his people, his planet? What if this storm ended, and he didn't see Rose the same way anymore?

Without the veil of hurt, and self-loathing, what if he didn't need her in the same way as he did now? He didn't think he could bare it if he suddenly stopped craving her presence, if she only became an echo to him.

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This was it. For real, this time. He'd found Rose and sent her home; she was safe. Now the Daleks had found him, and, for once, he wasn't running. He was going to die, and that was okay. He lifted his arms, eyes closed, and waited for death.

His mind was still, only a few dark clouds swirling on the edges. Keeping them at bay, as clear as if she were really there, was Rose.

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She was terrible. She was glorious. She was _burning_. _She was Rose._

He didn't know what was happening, how it could be possible, but Rose was before him, surrounded by swirling golden power. The Doctor stared at her in disbelief, and knew he could happily spend the rest of his life just looking at her. At the same time, he wished to never see anything as terribly beautiful again.

Rose. His Rose. She was going to die for him. Rose, who had saved him from the storm, was going to die.

And the storm would take him completely this time.

* * *

Rose was unconscious, but alive. He paused to brush some hair from her face, and smiled. This was the Rose he needed, that he loved. So human, so full of gentleness. He would happily spend the rest of his days in her presence.

The storm was still.

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**Thanks to everyone who reviewd and followed!**

**Until next time!**


	4. Let Her Go

**Let Her Go, by Passenger. Requested by _Guest_.**

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It used to be their spot, here in the doorway, their legs dangling into space as they had their tea and just talked. He'd set them drifting over some nebula, or galaxy. Once, for a week straight, he set them over the Rose Galaxy. He never did tell her what it was called.

Now, though, he sits alone, one leg drawn to his chest, the other dangling into the abyss. He has a glass of whiskey rather than tea, though it's not making him feel better like he'd hoped it would.

The Rose Galaxy swirls in all its beauty below him.

He'd done the right thing, of that he was sure. Leaving Rose with the Meta-crisis…it was right, and they would be happy.

Happy and human.

He'd been staring at the galaxy for close to three hours now. He'd chucked the bottle of whisky away from him in anger when he'd discovered it was empty, but still held the glass. He turned it round and round in his hands, every memory of Rose, every dream of her, playing behind his eyes.

He should have known she wouldn't last. Wasn't that always the way with it? Anything good in his life, any small thing, was destroyed, or killed. Or lost. Rose was just another in a long list.

And now he was alone. It always came back to this. Him in the TARDIS, traveling through time and space. Only now the traveling didn't have the appeal it used to; not without Rose there to show him the beauty of it all.

He could've kept her. It would have been simple; remarkably simple. All he would have had to do was finish that damn sentence. If he'd just finished that sentence, she would have come with him, and everything would have been exactly as it was before. The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS, as it should be.

Now it was just the Doctor and his misery.

A soft snort escaped him. He hadn't ever pictured himself to be the kind to throw pity parties whilst attempting to drink himself into a stupor. He let the glass go; he didn't even have the energy to throw it. It dropped from his hand, and rolled out of the TARDIS, off into space.

He shut the doors before he walked away.

He'd made the choice to let Rose go. He would have to live with the consequences.

He only wished he'd told her he loved her first.

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**Thanks to everyone who followed, favortied, and reviewed!**

**Until next time!**


	5. How High the Moon

**This one's based-loosely, mind you- off of "How High the Moon" by Ella Fitzgerald, and requested by Yani Cardaria. Also, I kind of sort of hid a few references in there...anyone catch them? I tried to be subtle, but subtlety was never really my strong suit! If you figure out what I was referencing, I'll give you a...I dunno what I'll give you. I'll figure that out later.**

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"Welcome, Rose Tyler," the Doctor announced grandly, sweeping his arms as he stepped out of the TARDIS, "to Elavthgin 6!"

Rose stepped out of the TARDIS slowly, one eyebrow raised, and looking thoroughly unimpressed. "It's a desert," she said flatly.

"I'll have you know this "desert" is one of the most culturally rich and influential planets of the Marzantine Galaxy!" The Doctor glared.

Rose glanced at him skeptically, then glanced around again. In truth, she supposed, it _was_ a pretty desert, at least. The sand was yellowish, like on Earth, but the sky was a deep violet color, and the clouds puffy balls of indigo. There seemed to be nothing but sand dunes around them, though, which was really the source of Rose's disappointment. She could appreciate a good landscape as well as the next person, but it was the people, at least to Rose, that made these trips so worthwhile.

"C'mon, then!" The Doctor declared, marching through the sand away from the TARDIS. Rose scurried to follow, shedding her jacket as she went. The desert was, unsurprisingly, hot, and Rose wondered how the Doctor was surviving in his heavy leather jacket.

_'Superior biology, Rose,'_ She imagined him saying, ducking her head to keep him from seeing the small smile that crossed her face. She was pretty sure it was less "superior biology," and more stubbornness.

"So, where we headed then?" Rose asked, tying her jacket around her waist. "There a town around here or something that I haven't noticed?"

The Doctor snorted. "You take once glance around the place and just decide it's deserted?" He asked. Rose wondered if he had intended the pun. "Typical human. If it's not laid out in front of you, you just assume it's not there."

Rose thought of taking offence at the human jibe, but by this point, she knew there was no real point. "Alright then, show me this magical desert city that I can't see."

They walked for a good half hour—why they could never park near their destination, Rose would never understand—until they finally crested a sand dune, and Rose was able to see a sprawling city. Her eyes widened as she took it in, a slow smile curving across her face.

The Doctor smiled smugly as he watched Rose react to the city before them. He'd thought she might like this place because of her addiction to Disney movies; minus the grand palace, the city before them greatly resembled the fictional city of Agrabah from Aladdin.

"Right then, there's this marvelous menagerie just over—"

"Do you hear that?" Rose asked suddenly, cutting the Doctor off. He glanced down at her, curious as to what could be more exciting than an alien zoo in the middle of the desert. Rose was staring intently down at the little town, and he could almost see her ears perk forward as she attempted to discover where whatever it was she hearing was coming from.

"What?" He asked after a moment, hearing nothing of interest.

"Come on!" She grinned, grabbing his hand and dragging him down towards the city proper. A minute ago, he could barely get her to walk; now she was almost running.

"Humans," he muttered to himself, though his smile took all of the bite out of the word.

They spent the next half hour running around the town, the Doctor following Rose for once, Rose pausing occasionally to listen, before dragging the Doctor off again. She refused to tell him what it was she was hearing, and he couldn't for the life of him discern what it was that she was hearing that was so special; which was just preposterous, since his hearing was genetically better than hers.

"Ha!" Rose declared triumphantly, stopping in front of a small crowd gathered around a man (the aliens on Elavthgin 6 were humanoid, and differed only in a third eye that only opened at night) playing an instrument that sort of looked like a flute, but sounded like a cross between a guitar and a piano. "Knew I heard music."

The Doctor blinked, watching the man play for a moment before looking at Rose. Music. She'd heard music and dragged across half the town trying to find the source.

Music.

He'd heard the sound, he now realized, he just hadn't categorized it as important enough to run all over looking for. But Rose, his little human, had. Of course she had; Rose always wanted to know more about the culture of the places they went—of course she would have gone straight for the music.

He watched her silently, her eyes glued to the musician, her eyes bright. The Doctor couldn't remember the last time he'd just stopped to listen to music…he actually couldn't remember the last time he'd heard music, and given it more than a passing thought.

He watched Rose in silence for a moment longer, then nudged her. "C'mon, there's a sort of street fair a few blocks over. Lots of musicians, street artists, that sort of thing. You can find a bit of everything there!"

Rose grinned up at him, and linked her fingers with his. "Sounds perfect!"

The Doctor led them off in the direction of the fair, all thoughts of the menagerie forgotten.

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**Catch the mystery reference? Let me know!**

**Thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, reviewed, or gave me a song to go off of. I have two more songs waiting to be done, but please, feel free to send in more! I could always use a muse!**

**Until next time!**


	6. Run-Part 1

**Merry Christmas everybody! What did you think of Doctor Who tonight? Don't worry, I'm avoiding spoilers for those who didn't/couldn't see it. Oh, and if you were wondering what I was referencing in the last chapter, it was Night Vale. The name of the planet was Night Vale backwards, the sky was purple, and the people had a third eye. **

**This one's on Run by Sick Puppies, as requested by AFireflyInSerenity, and it will be done in two parts, 'cause the song gave me two different ideas. The first half of the song gave me this idea, and the second half gave me the other. Part 2's a bit longer.**

* * *

"Run, Rose!" The Doctor yelled up to her. Rose cowered next to Mickey, watching as the shop dummies—what had he called them? Autons?—pulled the Doctor towards the pit holding the Nestene Consciousness.

"It's the end of the world…" she whispered to herself. This was it. This was how her measly existence was going to end. As she realized this, the world seemed to slow down around her.

She was going to die. She was going to die in a tunnel underground at the hands of an alien. She was going to die, and she'd done absolutely nothing with her life. The more she thought about it, the angrier Rose got.

She was nineteen years old, and she had done precisely dick with her life. She had no A-levels, the best job she'd ever had was at a shop, and she was so deep in debt thanks to that ass-hole Jimmy, that she would be lucky to ever get out.

But now that didn't matter, because she was going to die.

Rose stared at the Doctor, her eyebrows drawing down. She'd known this man for all of what; two days? If even? And already her life had changed so much. She hadn't even realized how miserable she was until he pointed out how simple her life was. And God, was she miserable.

Rose stood, and realized barely five seconds has passed since the Doctor had called to her. Like hell was she going to die before she'd ever even done anything with her life. She was going to rescue the Doctor, stop that bubbling pit of an alien, and she was going to _run_.

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**Thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed! And Merry Christmas!**

**Until next time!**


	7. Run-Part 2

**Here's part two of Run by Sick Pupies, as requested by AFireflyInSerenity.**

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Rose was not adapting well to this new universe. She'd left Pete's house all of once—and that was to say goodbye to the Doctor at Bad Wolf Bay. Since then, she'd barely left her bed.

Her mother worried about her…then got angry with her. Now she was threatening to kick Rose out, but Rose knew it was just a ploy to try and get her up and out of her funk.

Rose had no desire to get out of her funk.

She rolled over in her bed, away from the window; the window she always kept the curtains covering, so that she wouldn't have to face the zeppelins in the sky. So she wouldn't have to face that she was not where she belonged.

Rose stared at the wall, and wished for the numbing comforts of sleep. In sleep, she was safe. In sleep, she couldn't feel.

Sleep did not come often enough.

She wondered what the Doctor would think of her behavior. She could picture piercing blue eyes telling her to have a fantastic life without him. She could picture warm brown eyes telling her to move on.

Or, if she was feeling particularly self-loathing, she could picture those same blue eyes glaring at her, telling het to get up and get on with her life. The brown eyes looking at her in pity before turning away.

Neither was particularly pleasant.

She had to get up and go on eventually, she knew it. She even planned on it. She just wanted a little more time to mope; and the more time she took to mope, the farther into depression she sunk.

She rolled onto her back, contemplating the ceiling now. _'Impossible,'_ he had said. It was impossible for her to ever see him again. Impossible for her to ever go home. Impossible, impossible, impossible.

She hated that word, impossible. Always had. She'd seen so many things while she was with the Doctor that were supposed to be impossible, that she'd all but forgotten that there was anything that _was_ impossible.

And who was he to declare something impossible, anyway? He'd been wrong before. Rose glared at the ceiling. He'd been wrong before.

She sat up, the blankets falling away from her.

_He'd been wrong before_.

And God damnit, he would be wrong again.

She launched herself out of bed, moving with a purpose for the first time in weeks. "Pete," she said into her cellphone, barely letting her pseudo-father say hello. "Is that job offer at Torchwood still open?"

She had some running to do.

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**Thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed. Merry Christmas!**

**Until next time!**


	8. Connect

**I'm on fire tonight! This one's an AU, with the 11th Doctor. It's based off of Connect by Sick Puppies, as requested by AFireflyInSerenity.**

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John had to remind himself to breathe.

The lift was packed; he was touching no less than four people, and a little boy was standing on his foot.

That wasn't the reason for his respiratory distress.

No, that was caused by the blonde girl standing just behind him, so close in the packed elevator that he could feel her breath on his skin.

Her name was Rose Tyler, and she was his next door neighbor, and John had been in love with her since the day she'd moved in three years ago.

Coincidentally, that was also the last time he'd spoken to her.

But he'd watched her, and God, that sounded creepy, but he couldn't help it: the second she was in the lift, in the hall, in front of the building, _anywhere_, his eyes were glued to her.

He'd spent the last year working up the courage to say something to her to no avail.

The lift dinged as it opened, and John watched as she slipped out past him and the other passengers onto her floor, turning left, and disappearing from his sight.

It wasn't until the next floor up that John remembered he was meant to get off on that floor, too.

Three weeks later, and John was reminding himself to breathe again. The lift had broken—John suspected it was from the other tenants in his building blatantly ignoring the passenger limit—and he found himself alone in the stairwell with one Rose Tyler.

'_Say something, you idiot!'_ He screamed internally, actively trying not to stare at her as they both chugged along towards the sixth floor. They'd gone three floors already; he was running out of time.

"I like your bow-tie." John nearly jumped in surprise at the voice from his left. She'd spoken to him. She'd spoken to him!

It took him a few seconds to realize he was just staring at her, his eyes much larger than they should be. "Erm, ahem," he coughed, trying to pull himself together. "Thanks."

She nodded. "You live next door to me, right? John…John Smith?" She asked. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her voice.

He nodded, perhaps a bit too vigorously. "Uh huh, yeah, that's me!" Too excited. His voice was too high pitched.

"'m Rose," she added after a moment of silence.

"I know," John said quickly. Rose raised an eyebrow at him, looking a bit wary. "We met before, back when you first moved in?" God, had she forgotten about him? He'd been agonizing about that meeting for three years, and she didn't even remember…

"Oh, right!" She said after a moment, snapping her fingers. "You used to wear that brown suit all the time, right?"

John nodded, smiling. She remembered him!

"Why the switch to tweed?" They were at the door to the sixth floor now, and John held it open for her as they walked out into the hallway. Seven doors down was her, eight was him.

"I, ah, teach chemistry at the high school. I wore it one day as a joke—one of my students said it would make me look like a professor—and I, uh, kind of liked it. So I kept it," he shrugged, blushing a bit. God, why was it so difficult to talk to one bloody girl?!

"Well I like it," Rose decided after a moment, nodding.

John grinned, blushing a bit more, but too happy to care. It was with no small amount of disappointment that John realized they were at their respective doors.

"Well, see you then," Rose smiled, pulling a key from a chain around her neck.

John hesitated, then, right as she was about to step inside, he blurted "Wouldyouliketogetcoffeewithmesometime?"

Rose stilled, blinking at him in confusion. John felt his face growing redder by the second. "Sorry, I, ah, should—" he mumbled, fishing in his pocket for the key to his door.

"I'd love to."

John's head shot up, and he found Rose smiling at him, her hand out stretched. John blinked, grinned, and took her hand.

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**Thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed. Merry Christmas!**

**Until next time!**


	9. Cosmic Love

**Me again! Sorry for all the notifications...these songs y'all are sending me are great! This one's Cosmic Love, by Florence and the Machine, as requested by Yani Cardaria. It's a Dark!Doctor one, and I had more fun with it than I probably should have.**

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Tired, he was so…tired. Tired and alone, and if there's one thing the Doctor should never, ever be, it's alone. The Ponds were…gone…gone, gone, gone, and he was alone, so alone…and tired…so very tired…

Somehow, he'd wandered, wandered down a hallway he hadn't seen in years, in centuries. And somehow, he'd gone through a door that he thought he'd deleted long ago. Not the room, no, never the room…but the door…he could get rid of the door.

It was all just as she'd left it…messy and overwhelmingly pink. Pink walls, pink bed, pink, pink, pink.

It still smelled like her.

Leave, he should leave, he should leave now, before…before…before he got stuck. Before he drowned in her scent. Before he forgot that she was gone, gone, gone, and never, ever coming back. Before he fell through the hole that her absence left in his mind, into the blackness of his own psyche…

He felt his knees hit the floor, and knew it was too late. Rose, beautiful Rose. Kind Rose. Loving Rose. Gone to another universe, another man. Another him. Losing her to himself was perhaps the worst part.

He closed his eyes, feeling the darkness well up around him. Rose had left him. The Ponds had left him. Everyone always left, in the end. Well, no more. He would be alone. He would take on the universe all by himself, and pity the creature that stood in his way. His tenth self had been a man that didn't believe in second chances. Maybe his eleventh self would be someone who didn't believe in any.

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**Thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed. Please, feel free to send me any song requests! Merry Christmas!**

**Until next time!**


	10. Demons

**Last one for tonight, dearies! This one's on Demons, by Imagine Dragons, as requested by _Guest_ Chole. Good lord I'm doin a lot of angst tonight!**

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The walk to the TARDIS was the longest walk he'd ever taken. Behind him, Rose and the Metacrisis were kissing; the Metacrisis having finished the one sentence the Doctor never could. He hated to leave her again, hated not to finish that sentence, hated that he could never see her again after this day.

And that's why he didn't turn around.

If he turned around, if he looked at her one last time, he wouldn't be able to leave her. He knew it, and that's why he had to get into the TARDIS, get back to his universe, and seal the cracks between the universes.

It was what she deserved; a chance at a happy life with a man who loved her, who could grow old with her.

And hell, it was what he deserved; to know that the one person he'd ever loved with both his hearts was forever beyond his reach. It was for the best, for both of them.

He was too dark for her; he'd always been too dark for her. She'd healed so much of that darkness, vanquished so many of his demons…but it wasn't enough, it would never be enough. The Metacrisis had the same demons, but his human nature, along with Donna's innate goodness, made him much more likely to be saved. The Doctor couldn't risk Rose like that; couldn't risk her light by tainting her with his darkness.

It was for the best.

That's what he told himself as he pulled Donna into the TARDIS and shut the door. It was what he told himself as he piloted them back home. It was what he told himself every night for years after.

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**Thanks to everyone who followed, favortied, and reviewed! Merry Christmas!**

**Until next time!**


	11. Lollipop

**Lollipop, by The Chordettes, as requested by Yani Cardaria, because I've given her too much angst in one night.**

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How she managed to get back to him, he had no clue. He desperately wanted to ask, but he was a bit too busy just holding her at the moment.

"Rose," he breathed, her scent flooding his senses.

"Hello, Doctor," She murmured, somewhere near his collarbone.

After not nearly enough time, he pulled away, looking her over slowly, taking in every part of her. She was still as perfect, as beautiful, as he remembered.

"Like the new face…" Rose offered, looking him over in the same was he was looking at her. She reached up and brushed his bowtie. "'Specially the bow tie."

The Doctor grinned. "Come on, let me get you a cuppa!" He grabbed her hand and went running for the kitchen, pulling her along and grinning at the sound of her laughter.

While Rose sat at the table waiting, the Doctor searched his cupboards. His completely bare cupboards. "Er…" he murmured sheepishly, turning to her. "Seems I've forgotten to do the shopping for a bit…care for a lolli?" He offered, holding up a fistful of the candies. Rose walked over to him to inspect them. "I've got lime, apple, cinnamon, cherry…what's your favorite flavor?"

Rose bit her lip for a moment, as if deciding, then leaned up on her tip toes to press her lips softly to his. "I like this flavor," she murmured.

It would be a very long time before the Doctor remembered to go out and get tea.

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**Thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed!**

**Until next time!**


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